


I want to make a complaint

by Kivea



Category: South Park
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Office, Awkwardness, Cryle Week, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Office AU, Rivalry, Romantic Comedy, Sloppy Makeouts, work party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea
Summary: Day 3: Office AUKyle Broflovski and Craig Tucker had a somewhat...competitive working relationship. They thought that they handled it fine, though after an incident that ended with Butters crying, Wendy gave them a strict warning that they were to improve their working relationship and stop dragging other people into their competitions.Kyle guessed she probably didn't mean for them to kiss at the work party.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Craig Tucker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75
Collections: Cryle Week 2020





	I want to make a complaint

**Author's Note:**

> Credit where it's due! I got this idea of a prompt that was on dailyau.tumblr.com

Sitting in your boss’s office on a Monday afternoon awaiting punishment was never something someone looked forward to, whether you were friends with them or not. Sometimes he felt like it made it worse the fact that he knew the woman, sat there massaging her temples as she tried to calm down, because he knew she would hang it over his head next time they met outside of work. Though… 

Kyle supposed on this occasion, he wouldn’t blame her. 

“You two have got to stop this,” she honestly just sounded tired. “I’m sick of seeing you on the other side of my desk.” 

“In our defence,” Kyle started. “We don’t have the issue.” 

“It’s just everyone else who can’t handle it.” 

Wendy shot Craig a nasty glare. 

He sighed out, but was apologetic at least. “Sorry. Out of line.” 

“Yes, it was,” she dropped her glasses on the table and sat back in her chair. “Look, I get that you’re both…somewhat competitive, but it’s getting too much. You made Butters cry.” 

“It’s not hard.” 

She threw her hands in the air. 

Craig sunk further into his seat with a grumble. 

“If I get another complaint about you both, I’m going to have to take disciplinary action, and either actively watch over you, or move one of you to another department. Neither of those options are things I want to do, because I like you both here, but I am _not_ a babysitter.” 

They accepted her words in silence, letting them settle over the room. If Kyle was honest he didn’t want either of them to have to move. As much as Craig wound him up, it provided some kind of entertainment in an otherwise dull day. 

“I’m giving you one last chance – despite my better judgement. I want you to find some way to improve your working relationship, at least so that it doesn’t upset everyone else. If either of you end up back in here anytime soon, we’ll start reviewing some micromanaging. You got that?” 

“Yes, Wendy.” 

“Good,” she let out a breath. “Now, get out my office.” 

They didn’t wait to be told twice. 

When Kyle had started at the company, Craig was already there. Cartman hired him and dropped him in Wendy’s department, stating that while he wanted his Jewish friend to be there and work hard, he didn’t want to actually deal with him. Wendy asked him if he wanted to press charges against hate-speech and slander. He’d known Cartman a long time though, and explained if he did that then he wouldn’t be able to keep being just as spiteful in return. 

He and Wendy became fast friends. 

It helped that his best friend, Stan, also worked for the company. He had been overjoyed as Kyle joined their team, and neither would be surprised if Cartman did it intentionally so they could stick together. It made the transition easy enough, learning people’s names and habits quickly. He felt less like an outsider. 

Then there was Craig Tucker. 

For the first couple of weeks, they did not get on at all. He thought Craig lazy, arrogant, and far too dull. He was the embodiment of ‘minimum effort’, and if there was one thing Kyle couldn’t tolerate, it was someone who was bone-idle. 

So, when a big project came up that Craig was written down for he felt no qualms stealing it right from under him. After that, he learnt why Craig was so highly regarded in Cartman’s eyes. 

Lazy, but brilliant. 

At every corner he corrected Kyle, and he was usually right when he did. He never spoke when he wasn’t sure of himself, and after he’d been scorned, he spoke a _lot_ more. By the time the project was done they were both commended, Wendy and Cartman viewing it as a mutual effort. 

Kyle was nothing if not a little competitive. 

Dislike became begrudging respect. They frequently tried to one up each other, and he loved the thrill of proving the asshole wrong. Stan warned him at first; Craig doesn’t usually get this invested in things, are you sure you wanna find out what happens when he does? But Kyle ignored him in favour of the game they were playing. 

Their colleagues found it entertaining in the beginning, until the competitive one-upmanship bled into literally every interaction they had. 

Craig started it. Craig totally started it. No matter what Stan said, it was not Kyle’s fault. 

Kyle had made the coffees, taking people’s cups to go to the kitchen with. When he’d taken Craig’s the _absolute jackass_ had the audacity to smirk at him and say: ‘try not fuck this up like you did with yesterday’s project, yeah?’ and something snapped. 

Craig liked his drink with two sugars. Kyle knew, because he had Craig’s order mesmerised. That time, he dumped two salt packets in the liquid instead. 

He watched it happen. He could see Craig’s desk from his own, eyes pinned to the tall man. He was typing away at his computer, before he reached out and picked up the cup, bringing it to his lips and-! 

It went _all down his front_ , and it was _so satisfying_. 

After the initial shock had worn off and Bebe had helped him clean up, the man had turned to Kyle with stormy eyes full of fury. 

Kyle smirked and said: “I guess you must be salty enough, then?” 

He never knew if Craig liked him or not. The guy gave as good as he got, but defended him when Cartman crossed the line in his mocking words. Hell, he knew that Craig recommended him for the Aisbrough task, even though he denied it when Kyle confronted him about it. Yet he actively tired to sabotage Kyle time and time again. Though he supposed he did the exact same thing. 

This time…maybe they crossed the line. 

“Look, it’s not like you have to start being all buddy buddy with him,” Stan said as they sat in the cafeteria after Kyle recounted his meeting with Wendy. “Just…maybe tone it back on pranking each other.” 

“We don’t prank each other.” 

Stan gave him a disbelieving look. 

“We don’t!” 

“Dude, you tried to get him to use a pen you’d rigged to explode all over his notes for the meeting. Which Butters then used.” 

He felt a rush of shame. 

“He cried. For twenty minutes solid.” 

“I know.” 

“Like, full on bawled.” 

“I get it, Stan!” he snapped. “You’ve hammered the point home.” 

“It was fine when you were just being competitive over dumb shit. This prank war thing? That’s the bit you’ve gotta stop.” 

He knew, but… 

He _revelled_ in the way that Tucker would turn to him, words sharp on his tongue with a face full of promise. 

“Maybe you should take up a competitive sport.” 

Kyle raised a brow. 

“Seriously. Play squash or something after work, get it all out your system away from the rest of us.” 

“You want to put us in a scenario that involves rackets? He’s a sore loser.” 

Stan grimaced. “Okay maybe not.” 

“Let’s stop talking about it,” Kyle requested. “I’d rather think about how to fix it later, and ignore it completely for now.” 

“Your call, dude.” 

Craig barely looked at him for the rest of the day. Or the day after that. In fact, it seemed like Craig had decided on how he was going to fix it; resist the temptation by pretending it wasn’t even there. Even if that ‘it’ was actually one of his colleagues. 

Stan, once again, warned him that maybe that wasn’t the best idea in the world. Kyle, once again, totally ignored his advice. 

When they were in a group meeting together and Kyle said something, Craig didn’t tag on his personal opinion afterwards. Instead there was a silence as the rest of the team waited, blatantly staring at him, for the words to come. But they didn’t. 

When Kyle offered to make drinks and Craig made no move to offer his cup, Kyle completely bypassed him. 

He took Craig’s lead this time, and blocked out his existence. At least, as much as he could. The first two days were easy. His working day became less disruptive. It was almost like when they first started and Kyle wasn’t sure how to speak to him, and Craig wasn’t interested in making friends. One the third day… 

His eyes started wandering. He kept having to snap his attention back to the screen. 

On one occasion, he looked over to see Craig’s eyes already on him, though they snapped back to their respective screens as soon as the contact was made. 

Stan insisted it wasn’t healthy. Kyle asked if Wendy was satisfied with things being calmer. Stan said he didn’t give two shits, but yes, she was. 

By Friday, he considered himself a master of not interacting _or_ looking at Craig. To satisfy Stan, he suggested that maybe this would be a good way to start the relationship from the beginning. Build up to casual hellos with a clean slate. Maybe he’d even start on Monday. 

“What are you going to do about the work party?” 

He blanched. 

Stan smiled with victory. “You totally forgot, didn’t you?” 

“It’s just a night out,” Kyle reasoned. “It’s nothing special. It’s not like we have to interact.” 

“Famous last words.” 

\--

Kyle had been nervous at first. Usually when he went out with his work mates, they ended up squashed together at some point. How was he supposed to ignore someone who would be sat at the same table as him? Especially when he’d had enough trouble ignoring him when they weren’t sat at the same table. 

He resolved to spend as much time at the bar as he possibly could. 

The relief of having office calm stopped being relief when they were there. Thankfully Wendy wasn’t present for anyone to complain to, though Kyle was struggling to ignore the nervous looks from his work friends at the fact that they were separating themselves further. He supposed it probably made it hard to enjoy yourself when two of your colleagues weren’t speaking. 

Instead he tried to keep himself out of the situation, in hopes it would make it less awkward for his friends. He hoped it helped. He was beginning to feel guilty. 

“Why aren’t you hanging out with your usual lot?” 

He looked up at the question, seeing a sweet smile pointed in his direction. It was Leslie, the girl from marketing. She had a keen eye and knew how to play with people’s heartstrings, if Jimmy was to be believed. 

“Felt like a change of pace,” he shrugged. 

“Would you like company?” 

He looked behind he where her usual group was sat. “That’s sweet, but I don’t want you to ditch your friends.” 

She laughed in that melodic way she did. “I see them every day. Maybe a change of pace would be nice?” 

Leslie joined him at the bar and they chatted. She was good at playing with your heartstrings, the way she giggled at his jokes was flattering, and the casual touches to his arm and back of his hands made her intentions pretty obvious. She proved a formidable distraction, as whenever he felt his mind beginning to wander back to where his co-workers sat, her words would bring his attention straight back to her. 

She had a way of putting you at ease. Or maybe that was just the alcohol he kept ordering. 

“How about we dance?” she suggested as he finished his drink, both hands moving forward to run down his forearms to his hands. 

“Oh, no, I don’t think – I'm not a dancer,” he shook his head, nerves beginning to creep. Not even being a little tipsy could make him willing to dance. 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“You should. Really, I have two left feet. I don’t wanna step on your toes.” 

She gave a coy smile, looking up through her lashes. She’d already started to pull him to the dance floor. “Prove it.” 

But then she backed straight into someone with a yelp. 

Spinning round she looked up at a dark haired man, towering over her with a glare that would make adults cry, never mind children. She backed away, clearly shaken by the look, though she tried to keep up a front. 

“Sorry, we’ll just-!” 

“You’ll just nothing,” he spat out. “He told you he wasn’t dancing. Fuck off.” 

The upfront delivery had her fear make way for indignation. “Excuse you?!” 

“Go on, back to your knitting circle to gossip. Take no for an answer.” 

Kyle couldn’t just sit to the side. “Sorry, Leslie, I’ll see you at work, alright?” 

She turned to him with a look of disbelief. “You’re siding with him?” 

“No, I’m not, he – you can’t talk to people like that, Craig.” 

The man didn’t move his glare off Leslie. She took the hint, scoffing as she turned and marched back over to her table. He let out a breath of relief knowing he was saved from dancing, which made way for annoyance at Craig’s sudden decision to finally acknowledge his existence. 

“What the fuck?” 

Craig looked away. 

“What? So you’ll come over and fight my corner, but you won’t actually speak to me?” 

“You’re fucking welcome,” he spat out. “For saving you from that bitch – got a habit of abandoning your friends to chat up weird women?” 

“I’m not-?!” 

“Oh please,” Craig crowed. “I’ve spent the past half hour watching you two flirt shamelessly at the bar, what the fuck else were you doing?” 

“So I’m not allowed a little harmless flirting on a night out?” Kyle hissed out, stepping up to Craig with his teeth bared. “What is your deal, Tucker?” 

"You've never shown interest in her, you just look desperate.” 

“Maybe I’m allowed to be a little desperate!” 

Something in Craig’s eyes snapped. “You wanna kiss someone that bad? I’m right here.” 

It was a challenge. 

He took it. 

He surged up, grabbing the sides of Craig’s face and pulling him in. The man responded in kind, hands clutching his waist and pulling him forward until they were pressed flush together. Their lips moved together and it felt like lightening shooting around Kyle’s ever nerve. 

He made a noise that he really wasn’t proud of as Craig’s tongue pushed past his lips, brushing against his own. He could taste the sharp tang of alcohol in the other’s mouth, though he imagined that it was the same for him. 

Craig sucked lightly on his tongue and his knees went weak. He stumbled, but it was enough to break them both out of their stupor. 

They pulled back, though he walked straight into someone else and ended up right back where he was, their chests close enough that they could nearly touch, staring up into grey eyes that swam with the colours of the lights around them. 

His heart raced in his chest. He didn’t know what to do. 

His saviour came in the form of his very patient best friend. Stan appeared with his jacket, patting him on the shoulder and saying something to Craig. Whatever he did snapped Craig back to the world, and he turned to Stan and stuttered his way through an apology before he disappeared. 

“Let’s go. You’re drunk.” 

“I’m - maybe.” 

Stan turned him so that they were looking at each other properly, blue eyes squinted as he searched Kyle’s face. “Are you drunk?” 

“Yes. Enough. Let’s just – go.” 

“Are we gonna talk about this?” 

“Nope. We’re really not.” 

He didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. 

\--

The asshole called in sick. 

Kyle was sat there, staring at his keyboard, with all eyes on him, trying his damnedest not to walk over to Craig’s desk, pick up his computer, and throw it out the window. He had some fucking nerve, ditching Kyle to deal with this fallout on his own. 

Wendy had delivered the news via email, probably not having been told what happened over the weekend yet. As soon as it popped up in the corner of his screen, he felt his blood run cold. He knew everyone else had seen it, given that the room had fallen silent. 

“I’m doing a coffee round,” Stan announced, standing up from his desk next to Kyle’s. “Anyone want one?” 

It was enough to get the room moving again, at least. 

The day dragged on. He kept looking up at the empty desk on the other side of the room, feeling the absence stronger than he probably should’ve. 

But he was _fucking angry._

He way always called explosive by his mother growing up. He had a temper on him, and when something got under his skin, it was a matter of time before he erupted. Kenny, Stan, and Cartman would confirm without a doubt it was true, all three being subject to said eruptions on more than one occasion. 

After lunch, he reached his boiling point. Except Craig wasn’t here. So he settled for the next best thing. 

It was like a trigger. As soon as his eyes landed on the brunette next to Token’s desk, visiting their office from another department, he was on the move. Stan grabbed for him with a scrambled ‘bad idea, bad idea’, but he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his blood pumping around his ears. 

He stopped in front of the desk, two sets of brown eyes falling on him. Token sunk into his seat a little. Clyde gave an uncertain smile. 

“Hey, dude, ‘sup?” 

“What’s he off sick with then?” 

The whole room stilled. 

Clyde glanced over to Craig’s desk. “Wha-what do you-?!” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Clyde.” 

The brunette gulped. “He’s got food poisoning.” 

“Food poisoning?” 

“Yeah,” Clyde nodded furiously, patting at Token’s chair furiously. “Tell ‘im.” 

Token had a pained grimace on his face, refusing to meet Kyle’s gaze. “If it’s any consolation, I did tell him it was his own fault, for being an idiot.” 

“An idiot!” Clyde parroted. “For eating food he shouldn’t have! He knew it was gonna make him sick, but he did it anyway!” 

Kyle felt a stab of pain at that. Was he actually sick? Did he intentionally make himself sick? Was the thought of coming in to face the day that bad? 

“Dude,” Token hissed at his friend. “Not cool.” 

“What – oh! Oh, not that, like, he thought he wasn’t – I mean, he, y’know, he thinks he’s hot shit sometimes, so he ate it because he was like ‘ha I’m better than that’ cause, like, he’s a moron, n’stuff.” 

Token had his head buried in his hands. 

“Right, well,” Kyle picked himself up, giving his friendliest smile across to Clyde. “You make sure to let him know I hope he feels better tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Uh, why does that feel like a threat?” 

Kyle turned and headed back to his desk. He caught Stan’s eyes, seeing the man sat with his chin in his palm, one brow raised, delivering the look that said _‘really?’_ with practiced perfection. 

“Shut up.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He’d never been so relieved when the day finished. He went home and took his chance at being in private to allow himself to sulk without being judged, having shitty takeout for tea before falling asleep on the sofa in front of the TV. 

The next morning he thought about calling in sick himself, but decided he could be better than Craig Tucker. 

Instead he sucked it up and went to work as normal. He was one of the first ones there, and feeling sorry for himself the night before had at least got some of it out his system. He was a little more normal, spoke to his colleagues properly and smiled at them instead of trying to ignore the world. It was going fine, Stan even looked impressed when he got in to find Kyle at the coffee station with Token talking about what they’d watched on TV the night before. 

His morning was set up to go so well. 

Then he walked into the room. 

He was ten minutes late, which didn’t help matters, considering by that point everyone else was in. Eyes snapped up to him as he stalked through the office and passed Kyle’s desk, who… 

Who took a deep breath and continued to type away on his keyboard. 

He heard Craig sit down, start his computer, and mutter a greeting to Token, who responded in kind. He continued to pointedly not look at him. 

Only the sound of fingers flying across keyboards could be heard. He’d never known the office to be so quiet. 

He could do this. He could definitely, absolutely, totally do this. 

He buried himself in his work, blocking out everything happening in the room around him. He was dimly aware of people moving around him, and Bebe broke him out his concentration long enough to ask him if he wanted a drink, but other than that he was in a world of his own. 

Eventually the call of nature hit, and he stood to go use the bathroom. He headed towards the door that lead out to the rest of the building, swinging it open and startling as he nearly walked straight into someone else. 

He looked up and froze. 

“Uh,” he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. 

Craig said nothing. He stared, wide eyed, down at Kyle for a solid five seconds, before he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway in the _direction of the fucking toilets_. 

Kyle couldn’t stay in the room. He left and decided to figure out where the toilets where on the floor below. 

Stretching his legs might make him feel better. 

Once they’d ran into each other once, it kept happening. Bebe whined out that she wanted a coffee, and they spoke at the same time to volunteer (she ended up making her own). They picked up their phones in sync, eyes meeting, before realising someone was speaking on the other end and both fumbling to keep up with the conversation (he didn’t know what he agreed to, but he hoped they send it in an email). They turned their computers off to go home, standing to leave together (Kyle sat straight back down and waited for Craig to be gone). 

The next day followed a similar vein. 

“How long do you think you can keep this up?” Stan whispered, leaning in close as Kyle attempted to concentrate on working. 

“I don’t know,” Kyle admitted. “I…I don’t know what to do, honestly.” 

“You need to do something, this tension is making my life hell.” 

Kyle gave him a nasty look. “Dude.” 

“And, y’know, I hate seeing you suffer, or whatever.” 

“Thanks.” 

He was right though, and maybe it was about time that Kyle stopped ignoring Stan’s advice. 

When Craig left the room to go do a supply run, Kyle waited exactly thirty seconds before he left. As he stood Stan gave him an encouraging bump of his fist into Kyle’s arm, though he didn’t look up from his desk. 

As he left the office he sucked in a breath of air to resolve his nerves, heading down the corridor that Craig would’ve disappeared to. 

The man was standing in there, searching the shelves for what he needed. Kyle shut the door slowly so not to disturb anyone before he spoke up. 

“Hey.” 

Craig knocked his head, cursing low as he turned round with a glare. “Jesus – what the fuck?” 

“Sorry,” he grimaced. “I just – we need to talk.” 

He opened his mouth to speak, before snapping it closed. The cogs in Craig’s brain seemed to turn and pop out the most rational decision: turn around, and continue to ignore everything. 

Kyle felt a spark of anger. “Hey, you can’t keep ignoring me!” 

Nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. 

“I’m talking to you, jackass!” 

As soon as his hand was on Craig’s arm, the man spun round, using his height to try intimidate as he spoke. “Yeah, and I’m ignoring you, so why don’t you take a hint?” 

“We can’t ignore each other forever, so how about you work with me on fixing this?” 

“There’s nothing to fix!” 

“You’re kidding me?!” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Last weekend we-!” 

“We made a mistake. That’s final.” 

He _hated_ not getting the last word. 

“I’ll show you final!” 

It honestly was a little bit like an explosion in his brain. He grabbed the blue tie that hung around Craig’s neck and pulled him down, lips crashing together in a way that was a little bit painful with the force. 

Before he had chance to pull away, Craig had hold of his bottom lip, and bit down in a way that had his brain spinning in circles. 

The cheap shelving unit behind them shook as he pushed Craig back against it, grasping the edges of the shelves at a desperate attempt to keep his knees from giving out with how wobbly they were becoming. 

He ran his tongue against Craig’s bottom lip, feeling a rush when Craig met him in turn with just as much enthusiasm. One hand let go of the shelving unit in favour of tugging the tie just that bit more, bringing him just that bit closer. The heavenly noise that Craig made in response was something he hoped he never forgot. 

Kyle gasped into the other man’s mouth as he felt fingers dig into his back. Deciding the shelves weren’t giving him enough support he tried to guide them to the table that was in the room, breaking the kiss only to reach out and knock half the shit that was on it onto the floor, pushing Craig back. 

The dark haired man made no complaints, sitting back eagerly, hands roaming up to his collar to bring them back into the kiss. When his hands started to comb through his red curls, breaking them out of their styled position and pulling hard enough for a jolt of pleasurable pain to rush through him, Kyle started to feel dizzy, though he wasn’t sure if that was due to the man, or due to the lack of air. They were one in the same at this point. 

“Shit,” the man moaned out as he began to nip at the strong jaw, trailing kisses and bites to the spot below his ear. “If you leave any marks, I’m gonna fucking kick your ass.” 

He gave a hum of acknowledgement, and didn’t doubt that the man would make good on the promise. But it was hard to resist. Hard to resist biting a little too hard in all the right spots. Especially when the taste of his skin was so addicting. When the noises that were filling the air were so irresistible. 

He moved back in for another searing kiss, hips aligning, and moaned into Craig’s mouth, just as the door opened. 

He jumped and pulled back like he’d been burnt, darting half way across the room. He spun round to see one Wendy Testaburger standing in the doorway, one hand on the handle, fury on her face. 

"Both of you,” she hissed out. “My office. Now.” 

“Shit, Wendy-!” 

She held up a hand. Kyle was wise enough to shut his mouth. 

“Save it. I expect you within ten minutes. I’ll let you both...compose yourselves, first.” 

He grimaced at her words, but nodded nonetheless. 

She left the room, shutting the door with some force. It left the pair of them alone in silence, the heat completely swept out of them. Wendy’s fury had been something like a cold shower. 

“I - uh – I'll go first,” Kyle volunteered. 

“Sure. Yep.” 

He didn’t look at the other man as he left the room. He was pleased to see the hallway deserted at least as he made a beeline for Wendy’s office. 

This was _not_ how he had been hoping to handle the situation. 

\--

She had her head in her hands, staring down at the report on her desk when he entered the room. She didn’t say anything at first even as he sat down opposite her and waited for something. Anything. 

He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“I…honestly don’t really know how to have this conversation,” Wendy admitted, not looking up from the report. “I know I asked you to try and improve your working relationship, but this is not what I had in mind.” 

Kyle felt a wave of shame. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He was frightened of what might be written on his face if she met his eyes. 

“Just…how did this start?” 

“Really?” he asked, still staring at the floor. “That’s the conversation route we’re gonna take?” 

“Yes. Absolutely. I need to know.” 

Kyle sighed out, head lolling back with his attention on the ceiling. “I – it started at the work party last week.” 

She made a noise of encouragement. She was beginning to sound a little too into this story. 

“We got really drunk and – I dunno. We kissed, I guess.” 

“Wow.” 

Kyle groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes. “I don’t want to have this conversation. Can’t you just – give me a disciplinary, or something?” 

“This is suitable punishment, I think. How did you get from drunken kiss to sucking face in the supply closet?” 

“I – I don’t know?!” 

“You're not drunk, are you?” 

“No!” 

She raised a single brow at him. He realised he’d made the mistake of making eye contact. 

“I’m sober – stop giving me that look!” 

“What look?” 

“The one that’s on your face right now.” 

She schooled her expression into something a little more professional. “I’m sorry. I just…never imagined we’d be having this conversation.” 

He looked back to the ceiling, praying that this would end fast. 

“Look, I’m not exactly – pleased to have found you fooling about in some closet, though you’re welcome, because at least I stopped you before someone else found you.” 

He thought about what might’ve happened if someone like Bebe had found them. Probably wouldn’t have stopped them, but they probably would’ve come out to video evidence it happened. He dreaded to think of what the video would entail if they hadn’t been stopped. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t ask you for anything like this again. You really interpreted my request in an unexpected way.” 

There was a knock on the door. They both looked up, seeing the topic of their conversation stood on the other side of the door. Wendy gestured for him to enter, and Kyle had to actively stop himself fleeing as he felt his face flame and eyes dropped down to the floor. 

“I’m not going to give either of you a disciplinary,” she started as soon as Craig was sat in the seat next to Kyle. “But consider this a warning that if I catch you doing it again, I’ll make sure you suffer.” 

“Okay,” Kyle nodded. “That’s fair.” 

“Go back to work, Kyle. I'd like to have a few words with Craig.” 

The redhead looked across to Craig, who didn’t look up. Instead he was staring at the desk in front of him, a strange look on his face. 

He was pink all the way to his ears. 

Kyle cleared his throat and stood up. “Thanks, Wendy.” 

She gestured for him to leave. He didn’t have to be told twice. 

Her parting words had him practically running out the door: 

“Tidy up the mess you made in the supply room on your way back, Kyle.” 

\-- 

Cleaning up the mess they’d made in the supply room took longer than he thought it would. He didn’t think he’d managed to pick up all the tiny staples that were scattered on the floor, and honestly by the time he was finished doing most of it he didn’t care enough to try. 

He went back to the office, sitting down at his desk and running a hand through his hair. The style he usually tried to keep to tame it was long gone now. 

The buzz of the room was low, and he assumed no one knew exactly what happened. Stan had shot him a questioning look, but not pressed. No one else seemed to pay him much attention. 

“I’m doing coffees.” 

Some mugs were raised in the air at Craig’s announcement. Kyle was trying to figure out exactly where he was when he’d abandoned his work when a shadow was cast over him. 

He looked up to see Craig standing next to him, not quite looking at him. “Coffee?” 

“Oh,” Kyle faltered at being directly addressed for the first time in days. “Sure. Thanks.” 

Craig nodded, taking the cup, and disappearing from the room. 

It was the first interaction they’d had in the office all week. It was the first interaction in the office since the Monday of the week before. It was strange. 

He turned back to his computer and forced himself to be normal. 

The remainder of the day passed with little incident. He and Stan were the last ones in the room, and he knew that his friend was only there because he didn’t want to leave Kyle alone. But he insisted. 

“I’ll be fine, dude. Don’t wait back just for me. I’ve still got a fair amount to do.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

Stan disappeared with a good luck and a promise that he’d call Kyle later. Probably to grill him on what had happened. If he’d managed to speak to Craig or not. 

He continued to try get through the work that he’d abandoned earlier. He hated leaving a report half finished; would rather stay back and finish it than spend the night wishing he had. He thought he was the only one in there, most of the lights turned off and the room completely silent save his typing. He was in a world of his own. So much so he barely noticed anyone joining him. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

Kyle looked up, seeing Craig standing opposite him. He wore his usual business attire minus his tie, making it look far too attractive for what was just work slacks and a button up shirt. Kyle was always envious of how effortlessly good Craig seemed to look in the same clothes that made Kyle look like a washed up version of his dad. 

“I’m working,” Kyle explained. “I didn’t get to finish earlier because…well, y’know.” 

The tips of Craig’s ears went pink. He knew. 

“Why are you still here?” 

“Token had a presentation he needed polishing up for tomorrow. He’s just left. I said I’d lock up.” 

“Well, no need. I’ll lock up when I leave.” 

“Aren’t we meant to not be in the building on our own?” 

He grimaced at the reminder of that rule. “I mean, I guess.” 

“Can’t you finish your work tomorrow?” 

“I wanted to get it done tonight,” Kyle admitted. “I promised Wendy I’d have it on her desk lunchtime tomorrow. If I finish it now, I have the morning to check my work.” 

Craig looked unimpressed. 

“It’s alright. I’ve stayed back late before on my own. I can lock up.” 

That wasn’t good enough for Mr Tucker, who let out a huff before he pulled out the chair for the desk opposite, dropping his bag and relaxing into the chair. Kyle watched him with wide eyes as he got out his phone and made himself comfortable. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I think we’ve both got into enough trouble today. The last thing I want is for someone to come rob the place and I get told off for ditching you on your own.” 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be, you know. I don’t want to keep you too long.” 

Piercing eyes looked up at him. He swallowed a lump in his throat. They looked back at the phone. “Start working, then.” 

It was easier said than done. He was struggling to concentrate on the screen before, never mind when the object of his frustrations was sitting at the desk opposite him. It was taking so much brain power to just force his eyes to remain on the screen that he couldn’t even absorb the words on the page. 

He dared to look past the monitor to where Craig sat, just in time to see sharp eyes glance down at his phone. 

Was he…watching Kyle? 

“We should talk about today.” 

Craig gave him a scathing look. 

“And, like, actually talk about it. Not just…do it again.” 

“That’s even worse,” Craig groaned. “Are you shitting me?” 

“There’s clearly – _something_ – happening here, and the longer we leave it the worse it’s going to get.” 

“You’re as bad as Testaburger.” 

“Why? What did she say to you?” 

Craig’s face coloured pink. “None of your business.” 

“C’mon, Craig, I need you to work with me here.” 

“Fine!” he dropped his phone on the table. “You wanna know so bad? She suggested to me that I should work it out with you, away from the office, in our own time.” 

Kyle felt his own face get hot. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously! She said she didn’t care what was happening between us so long as we either got it out our systems, or kept it away from the office supplies.” 

The monitor suddenly became a lot more interesting. 

“Oh no, you can’t start this conversation and then decide to go back to work,” Craig was on his feet, looming over the desk. “You wanted to talk about it, so let’s talk.” 

“I mean – we do. We should.” 

“Should what?” 

“Talk about it? Get it out our systems?” 

Craig backed off at that, folding his arms across his chest. 

“I guess the question would be…what exactly are we getting out our system?” Kyle pressed. “Are you wanting something physical, or…?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“What made you kiss me, the first time?” 

“You were just letting Leslie hit on you,” Craig spat out. “She’s got crazy eyes, you know that, right? And you were just letting it happen.” 

“I was drunk.” 

“So was I! Else I wouldn’t have-?!” 

“But you did kiss me again, when you were sober.” 

Craig spluttered. “You kissed me!” 

“You kissed me back,” Kyle persisted. “You didn’t push me away.” 

He curled in on himself at the accusation. 

“I’m not typically a one night stand kinda guy,” Kyle admitted. “I’ve gotta be wined and dined.” 

Craig grimaced. 

“So if that’s not what you want, you need to tell me now.” 

“I-?!” 

He waited. He watched Craig’s eyes look all around the room, everywhere except Kyle. Watched the way he struggled for an answer. Kyle sighed out, feeling the rejection settle in. 

“I want to.” 

He stopped. He looked back up. There was a pleasant shade of red decorating Craig’s usually stoic face. 

“I want to take you on dates. A date. I – I’m not used to being…” 

Kyle waited a beat before suggesting: “To being emotionally open?” 

“Yes, to being emotionally open.” 

Kyle pushed back from the desk, heartbeat picking up as he registered exactly what Craig was saying. “So…you’re gonna take me on a date, huh?” 

“If you’re willing?” 

“I am,” Kyle nodded. “I’d like to.” 

He pushed his chair back as Craig walked round to his side of the desk. Craig pushed the keyboard back to make space for him to sit on the desk, and Kyle took the chance to stand up and bring them to a similar height. 

The smirk that decorated the handsome face did strange things to Kyle’s stomach. He reached forward, grabbing Kyle’s tie, and the redhead was almost sad that he couldn’t do the same again. 

Craig pulled him forward. “If we’re the last two in the building...” 

“Then I guess there’s no one around to complain to Wendy about anything.” 

The smirk widened enough to show his teeth. “I guess so.” 

The work that he was meant to finish was abandoned. He accepted that he wouldn’t be able to finish it till the next day, but Craig made sure it was worth his time. 

\-- 

“I want to make an official complaint.” 

Wendy rolled her eyes at the man’s words, raising a brow at him. “You practically asked for this, Stan.” 

“I wanted them to stop trying to resolve all that sexual tension by making the rest of us suffer. Guess what? I’m still suffering.” 

“It’s cute,” she cooed, looking back across the office at where Kyle was perched on the edge of Craig’s desk, smile wide as Craig laughed at something he said. 

“They haven’t stopped flirting all day.” 

“Let them have their honeymoon period.” 

Stan let out a long-suffering sigh. 

It was nice to see the pair interacting in a way that wasn’t so self-destructive. Her own smile widened as Craig grinned wider than she’d seen him do in years, finger raising to beckon Kyle down towards him. She waited for that sweet, darling kiss to come, her inner romantic singing at the very thought of it. 

But they didn’t have a sweet, darling kiss. Instead Craig’s hand landed on Kyle’s thigh as they began whispering to each other, and she was pretty sure she saw Kyle’s hand begin to rake through the dark hair. 

“Maybe we should leave,” she suggested. 

“Yeah, let’s go to your office, so I can make that official complaint.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yeah I'd like to confess my utter and absolute shameless love for Office Romance AUs (that are probably a little more on the heated side than the sweet side)
> 
> Also I am SorRY Wendy for putting you through this two fics in a row I promise I won't do it again (for a while)


End file.
